Memories
by Lady Beslan
Summary: The saddest part of The Deathly Hallows in my opinion told from another point of view. One-shot.


**Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter, and never will. They remain property of J.K Rowling and so do all the places you recognise.**

**Memories**

He could hear the cold, high pitched voice echoing throughout the castle walls and grounds. He could hear the words clearly as if the person the voice belonged to was stood right beside him. Of course, if he was stood right there, George would not be alive any longer.

"You have fought," the voice was saying, causing George to shudder slightly, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery."

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish for this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste."

George suddenly noticed absently that even the Death Eaters had stopped to listen to their master talk.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful." George snorted softly at that. A Death Eater looked 'round to see what the quiet noise had been and raised his wand slowly with a snarl. "I command my forces to retreat immediately." The Death Eater, George didn't know who it was, glared at him then vanished. _That was a close one_, he thought. He couldn't resist another shudder at the thought, though.

Voldemort was still speaking. "You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

The rest of the Death Eaters had disappeared as well, leaving only Hogwarts and Hogsmeade people alone with the distant screaming of injured and dying. George watched some of the remaining people beginning to move off to other places, to find their loved ones or to help with the injured or something of the sort. The rest were beginning to collapse into heaps on the floor with exhaustion. It was only then he realised that he was one of those; his legs had given way and he was sat on the floor, his head resting on the wall behind him, his breath coming out in short, rugged pants.

Voldemort was still speaking, his voice still echoing. _He must really like to talk, or maybe he just likes the sound of his own voice. I don't see why he would...it's very high pitched – like a girl's_. "I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

George hoped that Harry didn't pay attention to Voldemort's threats. Although they were probably true. He probably would come into the battle if Harry didn't go down to meet him in an hour. George liked Harry, he didn't deserve to die, especially not when feeling guilty because he thought people had died for him. That wasn't particularly true anyway. These people were fighting because it was the right thing to do, because they didn't believe in Voldemort's ways.

Suddenly a face appeared in front of him. He recognised it at once, however. Luna Lovegood. Her dirty blonde hair was even dirtier than usual, but that didn't dampen her airy nature that still seemed to radiate from her. Her face was screwed in worry though as she looked at him.

"Are you okay, George?" she asked, "You're not injured are you?"

George shook his head and tried to get up but found that his legs were too weak. Luna was there in an instant pulling him up and placing her arms around him, supporting him. He felt slightly embarrassed as she was a girl and three years younger than him, and she was the one supporting him and not the other way around as George thought it should be.

She began to lead him out of the corridor and in the direction of the Great Hall. "Are you sure you're not injured?" she asked again, her voice filled with concern. He shook his head again.

"Just tired. What about you, are you okay?" he asked, his voice now full with concern. She just smiled and shook her head and whispered something about being fine.

They were both silent, along with the rest of the castle which had now fallen into an eerie silence, wrapped in thought, as she led him to the Great Hall - he thought that was where they were heading. He was beginning to worry about his family. There were nine of them altogether in the battle. It would be a miracle if no harm came to any of them. Ron was in the most danger out of the whole Weasley clan; he was best mates with Harry – who Voldemort was trying to kill – and he wouldn't let Harry go and face Voldemort by himself, if Harry did in fact go down, so he would go to the Forest with him even if Harry tried to stop him; he and Hermione would go down with him no matter what, and get himself killed. If he wasn't already dead. The whole family was in danger though. They were the largest family of blood-traitors alive. There was no way that they would all survive. No way at all.

Luna broke the silence first. "They're gathering all the dead bodies in here," she said looking up at him with her unnaturally large eyes. "I don't know who's dead, I haven't been in there yet."

Bracing himself for the worst, he allowed Luna to lead him into the Hall. His immediate thought process was to realise how many dead bodies there were in the Hall. They were all gathered in the middle of the Hall, in a row. The house tables were gone, but the Hall was still crowded. Then his eyes finally registered the group of people stood near the centre of the row. The majority of them were red heads, their hair blazing like fire in the irregular light. His mind registered who they were. Bill, with Fleur next to him, Charlie, Ginny, Dad, Percy. He could hear his mother crying so she was there too. That left Fred and Ron. Peering around quickly, he saw no sight of Harry or Hermione, and they would be with Ron no matter what, so that kept Ron off the list as well. That only left –

"FRED!" he screamed, leaving Luna, and half running, half stumbling over to his family. Percy tried to comfort him, as did Charlie, but he just pushed them aside to reveal his twin lying on the floor with his mother laying across his chest, crying her heart out. He rushed over and kneeled beside Fred's head. He could feel tears running down his face, but he didn't care. He stared down at the boy on the floor. His brother, his twin, his best friend, the other half of him. The person who completed him. The person he did everything with. He couldn't be dead; he couldn't! They had been together their whole lives; he couldn't just disappear from his life. It wouldn't be right! It couldn't be right. "Fred?" he whispered. He could almost feel his heart being wrenched out. "Fred?"

There was no answer; he hadn't expected one. Fred's eyes were open, staring at the ceiling with no expression. His lips were curved slightly in a ghost of a smile. George could almost hear the laughter his brother had always laughed. His laugh was exactly the same. It was ringing in his ears as he stared. It was bringing back so many painful memories.

* * *

"George, come on. There's nothing to be scared of," his twin reassured him. He was smiling at him, not mocking, but encouraging and comforting. The small boy shook his head, but realised he was smiling back.

"Mummy will tell us off if we do it again, Fred," George whispered. "Mummy got really angry last time." The four year old boy shivered at the memory of his mother's wrath. She had shouted for what seemed a life time, causing both boys to cry and promise not to do it again. Not that Fred had listened. George usually paid no attention either, but, secretly, he didn't want to go back in again anyway. He couldn't tell Fred that though. He would laugh at him and call him baby.

"Well," Fred said sneaking quick looks around them to see if anyone would be able to overhear, "she can't tell us off if she doesn't find out, can she?" And with that he was striding as quickly as his small legs would allow, not even bothering to see if he would follow. George looked around quickly then hurried to Fred as fast as he could. His twin was wearing a satisfied smile, which almost made George turn back around again. Almost.

As they got nearer and nearer though, it seemed as if all the stories were true. The trees were towering over the two small boys. They looked as if they went up and up forever. George started to feel nervous and could feel a fluttering in his stomach that was always proceeded him throwing up. Even Fred looked a little bit scared when he looked up at all the trees.

George began to pluck at his brother's sleeve. "Fred, I don't think we should go in again. It's supposed to be haunted. What if there are ghosts in there? They might hurt us. And mummy said there were vampires as well. We should go back."

Fred just shook his head. "No, we have to," he said, regaining all his confidence somehow. "There aren't any vampires, mummy made that up to scare us. Well, we're not scared are we?" When George said nothing but just stared at the forest worriedly his twin moved so he could hug him. "Don't be scared, Georgie. Nothing's going to hurt you while I'm here, okay?" When George nodded Fred smiled. "Okay, let's go."

As they both moved cautiously towards the haunted wood, they heard a voice calling their names. They stared at each other, both recognising the voice of their older brother, Bill. Slowly turning around and walking away from the forest, they saw their brother running towards them, relief evident on his face. They both turned towards him and grinned as innocently as they could at him.

He frowned at them. He was twelve and far from stupid, and obviously didn't trust their innocent faces. He still looked relieved at finding them though. "Why did you two run off? Mum's worried sick. She had to stay and look after Ron and Percy, but dad and Charlie are looking for you as well." He stared at them for a few moments, as if considering what to do with them. They were still grinning at him impudently. He shook is head. "The quicker we get there, the less time mum has to work up her anger, so let's get back quickly, okay?" Without waiting for assent he grabbed one of their arms each and marched them back to their mother. She had managed to work up a lot of anger it the short time it seemed, however. They promised never to go back again. They did though.

* * *

George tried to shake the memories away, but it didn't work. He could hear his mother's sobbing and the soft crying from other family members. The tears were cascading down his cheeks now, and his body was shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't care. All he could feel was numbness. Numbness and pain, although he wasn't sure if that was possible. "Fred?" he whispered again, knowing it would make no difference; knowing he wouldn't get an answer.

* * *

"Why doesn't he ever let go of that teddy-bear?" George whispered to his brother who shrugged.

"I think Ickle Ronnie's a bit obsessed with it, George." George nodded and frowned at Ron, who was following Percy around the house. "I also think," he continued, "that if we don't convert him now, Ron will become Percy the second." He shuddered, a little too ostentatiously.

George nodded agreement, but grimaced as well. "Please, don't say that. Two Percy's? One is bad enough!" His twin nodded. They both watched as Percy whispered something to Ron, and then left him standing there alone. Perfect chance! They both darted from their hiding place as one.

"Hey, Ron!" Fred called. Ron whipped around and looked at them suspiciously. Fred grinned, and George found himself grinning too. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Ron said nothing but just kept staring. It was quite unnerving coming from a three year old. They both shared a quick look.

"Ron," he said, "you know, you shouldn't keep –"

Fred picked up the sentence. "- following Percy all around the house. He's a -"

"- bit of a prick. He never breaks any rules. And as they say –"

"- rules," Fred finished, "are meant to be broken." He took a step closer to Ron, who looked at him curiously.

"Why," he asked, "do people say that? Mummy always says you should follow the rules." He paused for a few moments. "So does Percy."

George moved to stand next to his twin who sighed. They both shared another look. He was deep in their clutches already. Fred began to talk to Ron again.

"Yes, well, mum isn't always right. And Percy almost never is," he added.

Ron glared at him; at them both actually. "Percy is right, most of the time. And so is mummy. You just don't like Percy because he's told on you sometimes." And with that he turned away from them and began trying to storm away like Percy did sometimes.

Fred glared after him, opening his mouth. Before he could say anything, however, there was loud bang and Ron screamed. His teddy had turned into a spider. It began crawling over his head. Both Fred and George stared at it for a few moments, listening to Ron's screaming. Then they began to laugh. Fred laughed so hard he actually fell over clutching his stomach. Unfortunately, the bang and screaming had not gone unnoticed. The door flew open and there stood their mother looking extremely worried with a screaming baby Ginny in her arms. Percy was stood glaring at the two laughing boys from behind his mother. It only made them laugh harder.

* * *

George stared at his brother's face, at the staring eyes. He wanted to shut them, but he didn't want to touch him. He knew he would be cold, and that would make him believe that Fred was actually gone. "Fred!" he whispered again. He couldn't help it; the memories kept coming, making him believe that everything was alright, but when he returned from them reality crashed back down on him. It was too much. "Fred?" he said. He wanted to scream but his voice didn't seem to be working properly. He wanted to howl with his grief. The memories kept on coming.

* * *

After turning Ron's bear into a spider it had taken a while for him to stop glaring at them angrily, but once he did they easily convinced him how much more fun it was breaking the rules rather than abiding by them. It wasn't long before they had their five year old brother following _them_ around the house. Of course, they saw this as an excellent thing, as their little brother was extremely gullible, and so they took great pleasure out of taunting him, tricking him, anything really.

Ron had just turned five when they decided it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce him to Acid Pops. It took quite a long time to smuggle them into the house, but they did eventually. Both Fred and George left Ron alone for a few days, leaving him to play with Ginny, as their mother was getting suspicious of the twins. They never seemed to be around when all the misfortunate experiences happened to Ron – such as mysteriously disappearing for a few hours until he was found sleeping near the garden gnomes, because he had been told it would make you grow taller to be around such short people – but for some strange reason, their mother thought them responsible. They had no idea why.

Then the time came. Ron was outside all by himself floating a couple of inches from the floor on his toy broomstick when the twins found him. George handed Fred the Acid Pop behind his back, so Ron wouldn't see, not that it looked like he had actually noticed them yet: he was having too much fun, and then they moved forwards towards him.

When he finally did notice him, they both grinned as he clambered off his broom and rushed towards him, almost tripping over in his eagerness. He was smiling broadly, as if he had never been happier before in his life.

"Hi, you two!" he greeted them with. "Why haven't you played with me for ages?"

"Oh, we've been busy," said Fred. "Have you missed us?" George grinned at the question. It sounded far from innocent, especially when you added his mischievous grin. Well, both of their mischievous grins. Still, Ron nodded whilst saying he had missed them.

"Well," George said, "as we've been apart from you for a bit while we were busy, we decided to give you a lolly. To say sorry." He heard Fred snort softly, and he looked as if he was trying to hold back laughter that was about to erupt. When George looked at Ron he could fully understand why. He was grinning at them so widely his face seemed to be about to split into two. He looked so happy again, that George almost felt guilty. Almost. Guilt was an almost foreign feeling for both of the twins. When Fred held out the Acid Pop, Ron took it eagerly and beamed up at them again. He unwrapped it hastily and stuck it in his mouth. He had it in there for a few moments before steam began to slowly float from his mouth. He began to scream and fan his mouth with his hands. The two seven year olds were laughing already though, grasping onto each other to prevent falling over.

It had been quite memorable, really, the way their mother had punished them that time. She had chased them round the garden waving Ron's little toy broomstick, and when she eventually caught them, she walloped them both with it.

* * *

"Now, you two be good," their mother had said as she had hugged them both quickly. The Hogwarts Express had been about to leave and both Fred and George had been excited. "I don't want you to get suspended or, even worse, expelled in your first year, and I'm sure you don't either."

That voice was echoing round George's head two weeks later while he sat on the other side of Filch's desk to Filch himself. He was berating them because they'd let a few Dungbombs off in one of the corridors.

"...letting off Dungbombs in corridors is forbidden! Even owning Dungbombs at Hogwarts is not permitted. Didn't you even read the list of forbidden items? You'll get detention for this, mark my words. Oh, if only I were allowed to bring out the whips again like the good old days..."

George was listening without really hearing. Fred was looking in the other direction completely, frowning at something. George looked in the same direction as his twin and saw a drawer marked as Confiscated and Highly Dangerous. They both grinned at each other.

George reached into his school robes and pulled out another Dungbomb hiding it in his hand from the caretaker's view. He nudged Fred inconspicuously and nodded to the drawer. His brother grinned quickly and nodded without really looking at him. George threw the Dungbomb so it landed behind Filch, and it hit one of the cupboards spilling out loads of files. Filch spun around, his mouth agape, allowing Fred to whip open the drawer and grab the topmost item. He quickly shut the drawer, put the item, which looked like a blank piece of parchment, into his pocket and then opened his eyes wide in pretend shock, an exact replica of George.

Half an hour later, they left Filch's office looking highly disgruntled. Stomping up to the Boys First Year Dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower they plonked themselves on George's bed. After a few minutes of grumbling about Filch, they recalled the item that Fred had snatched. He brought it out of one of his pockets. It was a blank piece of parchment. There didn't seem to be anything extraordinary about it.

George pulled out his wand and prodded the parchment with it. Fred frowned at him. "Do you think that something's concealed in it? Like invisible ink or something?" Fred shrugged before pulling out his wand also.

"Do you know what the spell is to make hidden things appear? I think it's in _The Standard Book of Spells_." George nodded and propped his wand in his mouth so he could haul his trunk out from under his bed and take out the unopened parcel containing said book. He unwrapped it hastily before chucking it to his brother. Fred ruffled through the crisp pages for a few moments before pointing his wand at the parchment. "_Specialis Revelio."_

Nothing happened.

George looked to his brother, examining his face intently. He seemed to look confused, or angry. Or both. He plunked himself back onto his bed, put his wand back in its pocket and picked up a candle from the bedside table and began juggling with it. He did this for a few more seconds before Fred nudged him with his elbow. The candle, which had been in mid air, about to land in the arm Fred had just nudged landed heavily on George's head.

"Ow!" George exclaimed. He glared angrily at Fred. "What did you do that for?"

"Is it just me," Fred said, his eyes not leaving the parchment, "or are there words appearing on there?" George pulled himself over to his twin and peered over his shoulder. They shared a grin. There _were_ words appearing on the parchment.

"_Mr. Moony wonders how such a goody goody two shoes, using a _standardised _spell, got their hands on this wonderful piece of parchment."_

"_Mr. Wormtail advices those who do not want to get into any trouble to stop reading and turn away."_

"_Mr. Padfoot agrees with Mr. Moony and Mr. Wormtail, and adds that those who do not understand are too stupid to read the real contents of this device."_

"_Mr. Prongs doesn't quite believe that those who obtained this particular magical device are committed to the same cause as the makers."_

Fred and George frowned at each other. "That didn't really make sense, did it, Fred?" He didn't answer. He had that calculating look in his eyes that he only had when he was really concentrating. George left him to it as he tried to consider what the words, that had faded seconds ago, had meant. He heard Fred whisper 'Goody goody two shoes.' in a slightly resentful voice. Then his head snapped up.

"It _does _make sense. Of course it does, Georgie. Don't you see?" George shook his head slowly, and winced inside slightly when Fred let out a grunt of impatience. "Don't you remember? '_Goody goody_ two shoes', 'those who _do not want to get into any trouble_, stop reading and turn away', 'committed to the _same cause of the makers_'! Don't you get it?" he stared George in the eyes, so confident that he would get it that George felt the smallest smidgeon of guilt when he didn't, but he nodded anyway. Fred grinned widely until George asked a stupid question.

"Makers of what? Why does that matter, George? This is something great, for people who don't mind getting into trouble; that aren't up to any good." he swivelled around and prodded the parchment hard with his wand again.

"I don't mind getting into trouble. It's fun. Show me the real meaning of this parchment!" George bundled over to Fred again and, again, peered over his shoulder so he could read the writing that would soon be on the blank page.

"_Mr. Padfoot thinks the two red-headed clones might not be that stupid after all, but maybe not intelligent enough."_

"_Mr. Moony adds that he does not believe that they should allow those who do not promise to open this devise."_

"_Mr. Prongs seconds that of Mr. Padfoot and adds that they should _most definitely_ not ever use this devise for good, if they get it to work that is."_

"_Mr. Wormtail will warn that the promise must be solemn, not faked."_

George sighed. These 'Mr's seemed to be quite picky about what he and Fred should be saying. He rolled his eyes, and went to sit with his back leaning on a bedpost. It wasn't very comfortable, but he had a good view point of his brother's puzzled face. He was muttering to himself, a distant look in his eyes. He pulled out a few loose Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from his pockets that he had shoved in there before a Transfiguration lesson earlier on, and began to cautiously nibble at them.

Fred poked the parchment with his wand a few more times and, though George hadn't moved to look again, he could tell they were never working by Fred's increasing irritated look. After about five minutes of this, George watched as his twin stood up and began to pace. He was looking very angry now, a look George had only seen twice before. Once when Percy had told Mum about their attempt to enter Knockturn Alley. The other time had involved Percy once again, as he had accidentally trodden on Fred's pet worm, Frankford, and killed it. Secretly, George had thought that slightly funny. He'd never said that to Fred though.

"There _has_ to be a way to figure this out, Georgie!" Fred said, pulling George out of his memories. George mulled over what had been said for a moment before getting up - stretching his back - and moving over to look at the blank parchment once again. He hadn't seen any of the remarks made my Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs, but he could still remember the last few he had seen.

"The promise has to be solemn, Fred." Fred turned to look at him, his brows raised high in a sarcastic manner.

"Oh _really, _George. Hadn't noticed that myself. How I would fail without your obvious words!"

George frowned at him then wiped away the expression, choosing to ignore it instead. "The promise to…" he tried to remember the things the others had said. "…to use the 'devise' for no good. That must be solemn."

He stretched over to his bedside table and picked up his wand before sitting down and placing the parchment on his lap. He looked up to see Fred watching him, a curious look battling with his angry one. George resisted laughing at the resulted expression.

Placing his wand over the parchment, he chose his words carefully. "I am up to no good, I promise."

Nothing.

Anger won the battle on Fred's face. He glared at George. "Look what you've done now! Nothing! No words or anything!" He stormed over to his bed and sat there, slumped.

George just ignored him and tried it another way. "I promise that I am up to no good." Still nothing. "I solemnly promise that I am up to no good." Zilch.

He looked up at Fred who was staring at the floor, head in hands. Jeez, he could be over dramatic sometimes. "Fred?" he asked causing his clone to look up at him. "What's another word for promise?"

Fred stared at him blankly. "Another word for promise?" he repeated. George nodded once, eating another bean. "Urm, swear, guarantee…assure? I don't know George."

Again, George placed his wand over the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" George muttered.

At once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that his wand had touched. They joined each other, they criss-crossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

_Are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

And it was a map; showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the most recognisable and magical thing about the whole map were the tiny ink dots moving around the map.

"Fred. Fred! It worked, Fred. 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' It's a map, Fred! A map!"

Fred lunged over to him to stare over his shoulder. "A map?" He seemed to stare down at the moving ink dots and then pointed to a room with only two ink dots in them labelled Fred and George Weasley. "Hey, it's us!" George grinned at Fred and received an identical one back.

* * *

"Fred," George panted, "it's not coming off!" Fred walked into the cubicle where George was kneeling next to a toilet attempting to pull the toilet seat off. George heard Fred sigh. "What?" he snapped irritably.

"Georgie, dearest, why are you trying to pull it off like that? Just blast it off with your wand."

George stared at his twin. He didn't want to blow the bloody toilet up! All the water would splash him. Not that he minded water, but coming out of a toilet was just disgustingly different. "Fine then," he stated, getting up and brushing at his knees, "you do it then."

Fred laughed at him – causing George to glare – before pointing his wand at the toilet and blowing the toilet seat off but leaving the rest of the toilet completely unscathed. He bent down to pick the toilet seat up and shielded it from view beneath his robes. "You ready?" he asked over his shoulder, walking towards the door leading to the Charms corridor. George followed Fred through the door.

"Are we just going to go straight there?" he asked as they headed for the Hospital Wing.

Fred nodded. "Harry's been in there for two days now. We should have given him this on the first day he was admitted. I don't know why we didn't." He shook his head and George frowned.

"I guess. I don't think Madam Pomfrey will agree with the toilet seat though." Both boys chuckled at that. There was no doubt about that. She would definitely not be happy with it.

When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, they saw Professor Dumbledore leaving. He looked down at them both, his eyes twinkling. "Well, hello you two. Are you here to see Harry?" They both nodded. He smiled at them. "But with no gift. Everyone who's visited him has brought a gift, so far." George shuffled his feet nervously but Fred pulled out the toilet seat.

"We did bring a gift, see. We just thought we'd be different." And with that they both grinned at the Headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "Well, different you two most certainly are. I should hope," he added sternly, "that you did no more damage to that toilet than necessary." It wasn't a question, but they both shook their heads anyway. Dumbledore's smile returned as he said: "I don't think Poppy will allow the toilet to stay in the Hospital Wing, but you can try." Then he disappeared down the corridor.

The twins shared another look before opening the door allowing admittance to the Hospital Wing. Only one bed was occupied, by Harry, of course. He still hadn't woken up, but there was a humongous pile of sweets and 'Get Well Soon' cards on a table by his feet. Madame Pomfrey came rushing over when the door opened. Dumbledore had been right. She didn't allow the toilet seat to remain in the Hospital Wing.

* * *

When the rumour began to spread saying that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin, many people began to avoid him in the corridors. Especially the muggle-borns. Both Fred and George could not understand this at all. It was quite obvious that he wasn't the heir, but hardly anyone, apart from the Gryffindors, saw that. Whenever Harry saw someone avoiding him, or heard whispering about the heir, the Chamber of Secrets or Parseltongue that concerned him, he became noticeably more and more down. Neither Fred nor George liked this, and they wanted to help. They both liked Harry and they didn't think he deserved to be feeling so depressed whilst only in his second year. They thought that Ron and Hermione might help, but it seemed that neither of them even noticed. Hermione was too concerned with something else playing on her mind apparently, and Ron, the great prick, was just highly unobservant.

So they helped in the only way they knew how; by turning it into a joke. They followed Harry whenever he was in a character shouting as loudly as they could.

"Look, it's the heir of Slytherin!" Fred shouted at a group of first years who were nervously edging around Harry.

"Make way for the heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through." George shouted at a group of Slytherins, causing a burly fifth year to drop a particularly heavy book on his own foot.

Percy didn't find it at all funny, however. "It is not a laughing matter," he said coolly. Fred and George both grinned.

Fred pushed Percy out of the way playfully. "Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred, "Harry's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said George, chortling.

* * *

"Fred," whispered George, running his hands through his beard which fell to just above his waist, "I don't think the Ageing Potion worked particularly well."

"Nor do I, George. Nor do I."

* * *

When Mr Bagman had cheated both of them out of their entire savings, Fred and George had been furious; Fred slightly more so then George. They sent letters to him almost every week, at first being polite, thinking he had made a mistake, but gradually the politeness faded resulting in being replaced by anger, especially when he never responded.

"Shall we ask Ron if we can borrow Pigwidgeon?" Fred asked George. He just nodded as they walked towards the table where Hermione seemed to be looking at some notes, Harry was reading Flying with the Cannons and Ron was making a castle with exploding snap cards. As he placed the last two cards on top of the castle the whole thing blew up, singeing his eyebrows.

"Nice look, Ron...go well with your dress robes, that will."

All three looked around as they sat down at the table with them, Ron feeling his eyebrows to see how much damage had been done.

George mentally rolled his eyes. "Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" he asked, rather politely he thought.

"No, he's off delivering a letter," said Ron. He then added nosily, "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically.

"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid prat," said George. Ron really could be stupid sometimes. It was hard admitting they were related.

He stopped feeling at his eyebrows and lowered his hands staring at them suspiciously. "Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" he asked.

George frowned at his nosy brother. "Nose out, Ron," Fred said, waving his wand threateningly, "or I'll burn that for you, too. So...you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," said Ron.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," Fred said. George snorted a soft laugh.

Ron frowned at Fred. "Who're you going with, then?"

"Angelina," said Fred promptly. George grinned but nobody noticed. Their attention was all on Fred.

"What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room. The three fourth years turned their heads to watch as well, and George found himself watching with interest in spite of himself. "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina, who had been chatting to Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at Fred.

"What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. "All right then," she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting, with a bit of a grin on her face.

"There you go," said Fred to Harry and Ron, who looked astounded by the scene they had just seen, causing George to laugh quietly, "piece of cake."

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school owl, then, George, come on..." They left, leaving the three to talk about whatever it was they talked about.

When they got out of the common room and through the portrait hole, George said to Fred, "Good one, bro."

Fred just smiled wickedly. "I know."

* * *

"Extendable Ears!" Fred proclaimed loudly as soon as both of them had apparated into Ron's room. George was holding the new invention up proudly as younger siblings, Ron and Ginny, and Hermione Granger looked up at them perplexed.

"Extendable Ears," George repeated. "You put one end into your ear and the other end under a door and you can hear the conversation they're having as if they were stood next to you." He waved the flesh coloured string in front of their faces.

Fred grinned. "So..." he said, "...do you want to hear what the Order are talking about right now, or what?"

Ron and Ginny got up quickly and took a piece of string each from George. He held out another one for Hermione who was sat on the bed frowning at them. "Hermione?" he said, teasingly.

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ginny said. "You've been as curious as the rest of us, wanting to know what's going on in those Order meetings."

"Yeah, just take it, 'Mione," said Ron. Fred nodded and George held out the string and waved it in front of her face until she snatched it angrily from him and stormed out of the room before any of them could. After sharing quick glances and handing Fred his Ear, they all rushed out after her.

She was waiting for them outside the room, arms crossed and her foot tapping impatiently. "Well," she snapped when they approached her, "you certainly took your time. So, are we going to listen, or not?" The four Weasley's all exchanged looks, then ran after Hermione again.

After all kneeling on the floor outside the door, they all placed one end of the string into their ears and the other under the door. They had obviously missed a lot of the conversation, and when they could finally hear what they were saying Sirius was half way through his sentence.

"...have to get him out of there quickly." He was saying.

"We know that, Sirius," Lupin's voice sounded tired, as usual, but also with something a little different in it, like he was tired of repeating himself. "The problem is trying to find out how to get him out. We can't just go bursting through the door in the middle of the day can we?" The five teenagers all frowned at each other. What were they talking about?

They heard Moody growl. Then his gruff voice began to talk. "I don't see why not. It's not like those pathetic Dursley's will be able to stop us. Let's just go in and get him." So they were talking about Harry.

There were many sounds of irritation from the other Order Members.

They heard a female voice join in the conversation. Tonks. "You know why we can't Moody. We've explained it many times."

"Well, either way," Sirius said, "we still have to get him out, don't we? We're all agreed on that. Let's try and figure out how then shall we..." Then they seemed to be planning. They were all so engrossed in the conversation that none of them heard the footsteps coming nearer and nearer the door until it was too late. Their heads all whipped up when the door opened. Mrs Weasley stared down at them, anger plain on her face.

* * *

After Dumbledore left Hogwarts both Fred and George saw no point in staying any longer. They decided it was time to leave. The problem was deciding _how_ to leave. They needed to go out with a bang, something memorable. For some reason, after they left Montague in that Vanishing Cabinet they had the idea to set of a crate of enchanted fireworks. That had just been phase one of course, but it was still very funny. Umbridge had run around the castle attempting to stun and vanish the fireworks, just causing them to multiply. The teachers kept sending for Umbridge whenever a firework swirled into their classroom, even though, they would have highly probably found it easier to get rid of than Umbridge.

That wasn't enough though. They needed to wreak havoc to the school before they could leave. They just weren't quite sure on how they could do that. Then Fred came up with the idea of Portable Swamps; George had never heard anything so wondrous before in his life.

It took a while to invent, and a shorter period of time to plan. But, then the day came when the perfect opportunity arouse. Harry needed a diversion so he could get into Umbridge's office and speak to Sirius. Perfect time to use the new product, in their opinion. After setting it off, Umbridge had come rushing down the stairs, but staying on the third from the bottom so she could still look down at them. A crowd had gathered, just like when Trelawney had been fired, all watching the event occurring before them. The Slytherin's who were part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad were all looking extremely proud of themselves. Peeves was even watching from above, with a small look of glee upon his face.

"So!" said Umbridge, triumphantly in George's opinion. "So – you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

Fred smirked slightly. "Pretty amusing, yeah."

George watched as Filch elbowed his way through teachers and students stopping beside Umbridge, almost crying tears of happiness. "I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely, waving a piece of parchment around. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting...oh, let me do it now..." George made a small sound in his throat which made Fred glance at him from the corner of his eye.

"Very good, Argus," Umbridge was saying, "You two," she said, gazing down at them, "are about to learn what happens to wrong-doers in my school."

"You know what," Fred said, "I don't think we are." He turned to George. "George, I think we've outgrown full-time education."

George nodded. "Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself."

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"

"Definitely," George smirked. They both raised their wands together before Umbridge could even open her mouth. "Accio brooms!"

There was a loud crash in the distance, causing some people to jump and look around. As the brooms came hurtling into the corridor some had to duck to prevent being whacked in the back of the head. The brooms stopped sharply in front of the two boys.

"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge as they both mounted their broomsticks.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," George said.

Fred peered around, looking at all the assembled students, teachers and ghosts. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley – Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts," George added, "to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat." He smiled, and then nodded to Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" she shrieked, but they'd already kicked off from the ground shooting high up into the air. George saw Fred look across the hall at the hovering poltergeist.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves." Peeves then swept his belled hat from his head into a salute to them as they both sped out of the open front doors leading outside.

"We did it, George!" Fred yelled as the wind whipped their shaggy hair around their faces.

"That we did, Fred!" he bellowed back.

* * *

"Harry and Ginny was completely unexpected if you ask me." George whispered to Fred as their Aunt Muriel stomped around upstairs.

"I dunno," Fred replied, just as quietly. It was best if Muriel forgot you were there completely. "They always seemed kind of close, I guess." George grunted. He still didn't quite believe that his little sister was growing up so fast, and dating the Harry Potter. Not that he really seemed that famous anymore to them. He seemed part of the family, Fred seemed to read George's mind, as usual. "She may be growing up, but face it...at least it's Harry, someone we approve of, rather then someone we don't." George nodded reluctantly.

A warm sort of feeling was radiating from his pocket. He frowned, trying to think what it could be, before reaching in and pulling the fake galleon that had been used for communication between all the Dumbledore's Army in their seventh year. George turned to Fred who was frowning at his coin as well. They both looked worriedly at each other before apparating into the Hog's Head where a ratty looking Aberforth was looking grumpily at two other people who happened to be there. Lee Jordan, who waved at them both when they appeared, and a girl with long red hair: Ginny. They both shot angry and concerned looks at her, but she just smiled them away and crawled through a portrait that the bartender was pointing. Lee Jordan proceeded through after her.

They both turned grins to the disgruntled man in front of them. He waved away all their talk, muttered something about railway stations and turned to some others who had just arrived behind the twins. Exchanging a small look they both clambered into the portrait-

* * *

George shut the memories off. They were causing him too much pain. He stared down at the body again. He couldn't believe that Fred was dead. He just couldn't. They had been through so much together. "FRED!" he screamed.

**A/N: A bit of a crappy ending, isn't it? It's not that good really, in the whole run, but it's the best I can do. Some bits are taken directly from the books, I know, but those are my favourite bits, and I don't mean any offence. Some things may be a little bit inaccurate, but please don't flame me. This was a spur of the moment idea, which took me quite a while to write. Hope you liked, anyways.**


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